Page 30 of His Scottish Duchess

He lifted a hand, using a single finger to trace the tip of her chin to the line of her jaw.

“It makes me want to swallow you whole.”

A shiver ran down Catherine’s spine, and she looked away, putting what distance she could between herself and his touch.

If she upset him, he did not show it, merely smirking as he held the book he had been reading up to her.

“Read to me for a little bit.”

Complying was much better than giving him more reasons to taunt her, so Catherine took the book and held it open to the part where the bookmark had been placed. The weight of his head on her lap and his gaze on her face would definitely prove to be a distraction, but she was determined to overcome it as best as she could.

She cleared her throat slightly and began to read.

“Stella couldn’t stand the sight of him, nor the memories his presence dredged up. She hated how he walked, and how he talked. She despised how he behaved and thought he’d been gifted the whole world to put in his pocket. It annoyed her immensely, as much as it made him unforgettable?—”

“Was it because of the kiss?”

Catherine nearly bit her tongue.

“I-I beg yer pardon?” She coughed.

“I want to know why you were avoiding me. So I’ll ask again. Was it because of the kiss? Did you not like it? I’ve never had any complaints before, so I find it hard to believe that is the case,” Sampson said, his brow furrowed in thought.

Catherine closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, counted to three, opened her eyes, and looked down at the book, picking up right where she had left off.

“It annoyed her immensely, as much as it made him unforgettable, because suddenly, her every thought was fixated on his existence. She thought of him in her waking hours and dreamt of him at night. He had charmed her, bewitched her with his coy manner?—”

“Have you never been kissed by a man before? Was that why you were so startled?” Sampson pressed, his eyes shining with curiosity and mirth.

“I fail to see how those questions have anything to do with the book ye asked me to read. Which I am trying to read, but ye keep interrupting me,” Catherine said through gritted teeth.

“Well, I am merely trying to understand why you have been avoiding me for the last few days. It must be related to our kiss because I do not believe I had done anything to upset you before that. Or did I?”

“Nay more than ye are doing now,” she stated, shifting her focus back to the book. “He had charmed her, bewitched her with his coy mannerisms and flirtatious glances. One day, she could not take it anymore and?—”

“Have you ever thought about being kissed? Or kissing a man? Or perhaps doing more than that?”

“Why are ye doing this?” Catherine outright whined.

“I am just trying to understand you. Perhaps if you were to answer my questions, I would feel less inclined to be so bothersome—although that is not my intention.”

“I find that extremely hard to believe,” she told him flatly.

“Cross my heart.” He grinned, and her stomach twisted itself into knots.

With a deep sigh, she said, “Nay. I havenae had such thoughts. Neither was I startled. I was simply preoccupied?—”

“But was I your first kiss?”

Something akin to shame gnawed at Catherine, and her cheeks flushed. “Aye. Ye were.”

He seemed surprised, and she hoped he would be stunned enough to forget his irritating agenda of bothering her. She continued to read.

“She could not take it anymore, so she confronted him, demanding to know why her feelings for him bothered her so. He?—”

“Last question, I promise. Have you ever pleasured yourself? I know I have asked you this question before, but you didn’t answer then, and I am quite curious to hear the answer.”

Catherine continued reading as though he had not spoken at all.

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